


Pride & Joy

by blondsak, seekrest



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: (or he will be - he just worries a lot), But when does he not, F/M, IW and Endgame? who are they?, NYC loves Spider-man, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Good Dad, Peter’s eternal struggle: does everyone hate me or should I just take a nap?, defenestrating canon as one does, just like Peter’s pent-up emotions, money’s tight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondsak/pseuds/blondsak, https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: “Seriously, can we not--” Peter tries to say but Johnny’s on a roll now, folding one arm across his chest as he puts the other to his chin.“I mean, the suit leaves little to the imagination to begin with, so like, can you evenhavekids? Or does the little spandex situation make everything a little--”“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Peter yells, frustrated and annoyed. “I’ll let you know in nine months if my kid pops out with freaking antennae or whatever.”Johnny blinks at him in shock. “Waitwhat? Are you messing with me right now or did you just-“Whatever Johnny is about to say, neither he nor Peter get to hear it - the voice of someone on the ground recording all the action on their phone yelling out, “Spider-Man’s having aBABY?”//In which Peter angsts in between receiving birthing tips from criminals, Tony is a sap and a schemer, and MJ remains the one and only adult in the room.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 135
Kudos: 477





	Pride & Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gruoch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gruoch/gifts).



> Happy birthday gruoch!! We love you and your writing so much. Hope you enjoy this 15k ode to our favorite dirty rotten scoundrel of a dumbass, Peter Parker ;)

Peter sighs as he swings to the window of the small apartment, doing a quick glance around in a motion that feels habitual - knowing his senses would tell him if anyone is watching.

His leg is killing him, feeling the bruise forming from the bat that some two-bit drug dealer in Central Park had slammed into his thigh.

But as he quietly slides the window open - softly landing into the dark, quiet apartment he shared with Michelle - Peter’s mind was elsewhere.

The drug deal he’d stopped - one of three in as many blocks - had been aggravating enough, some idiots arguing with him about “crushing their mellow” made even worse because he’d been distracted enough to get hurt. 

It isn’t as if he wouldn’t heal, but the concerned look he’d get from Michelle was always something he tried to avoid - especially since he knows she’s been distracted about something for the past week. 

Peter gently closes the window behind him, ripping off his mask as his eyes adjust to the darkness - hearing Michelle’s heartbeat in the other room, the sound of it calming him slightly as he limps through the living room. 

Peter knows that her latest deadlines had her stressed out, the two of them barely seeing each other for more than five minutes at a time it felt - something that he knows will not change considering the news he’d received from Otto. 

He’d been dancing around the possibility of a promotion for the past month, Peter finally getting the chance to ask him about it only for his hopes to get crushed when Otto told him about losing the Arthur grant, money Peter knew they sorely needed to push their patent forward. 

Octavius’ lab didn’t have a tenth of the kind of money that regularly poured into SI but Peter liked his work with Dr. Octavius - liked it even more  _ because _ they had so little resources and still managed to make an impact. It was a professional manifestation of his desire to look out for the little guy. 

Yet the problem for working for the little guy showed itself in relying on Michelle’s paycheck to cover a lot of their expenses, something that only bothered Peter in as much stress as it placed on her - especially since from the conversation he had with Otto today, the chances of him getting a promotion now were slim to none. 

He sighs, limping forward only to hit his knee against the coffee table - wincing from the pain and from how much noise it made, hoping he didn’t wake her up. 

“Peter?” he hears Michelle call out, wincing again as he absentmindedly rubs his knee. “Hey MJ.”

She walks out from the bedroom, wearing one of his old sweatpants and a Stanford hoodie, hair twisted up in a bun with some curls falling down her face - looking more awake than Peter guessed she should be considering how late it was. 

“Sorry,” he says, motioning towards the coffee table, “I was trying to be quiet but--”

“It’s fine,” Michelle says, Peter too tired to really register how anxious she looked, slapping the emblem in the center of his chest to loosen the suit. It doesn’t, another annoyance that nudges at Peter as she says, “I was waiting up for you.”

Peter’s head snaps up at hearing her tone, eyes dancing across her face. “Is everything okay?”

Michelle looks unsure for a brief moment before she straightens her shoulders, nodding slowly and saying, “Yeah but uh, you may want to sit down.”

“I don’t want to get the couch dirty,” he says, waving her off as he slaps the emblem on his chest a little harder, getting more annoyed that it’s not loosening up as he says, “you wouldn’t believe the kind of shit I had to deal with today.”

“Peter--”

“You remember the last time I stumbled in here without taking it off? We couldn’t get that weird smell out of the pillows for ages,” Peter says, slapping the emblem again so hard that it hurts - wincing as Michelle walks forward. 

“Peter, I really think you should--”

“Whatever’s going on, I promise you, MJ. It can’t possibly be any--”

“I’m pregnant.” 

Peter blinks, immediately frozen in place. He searches her face frantically, wondering for a moment if she’s messing with him even if he knew this  _ wouldn’t _ be something she would ever joke about.

“You’re-- did I just hear you say--”

Michelle nods, twisting her lips before saying it again. “I took five tests. I’m pregnant.” 

The suit mechanism that Peter had hit three times suddenly decides to take that moment to work, dropping down to his feet as he stands there frozen. 

Michelle looks him up and down, the ghost of a smile on her face as she says, “I’m  _ already _ pregnant, Parker. You don’t have to seduce me.”

Peter laughs, running a hand through his hair - his mind racing as Michelle’s words start to sink in. 

His eyes widen, swaying a little in place - his knee and his leg both throbbing in pain. 

“I think I need to sit down.” 

* * *

“Is this really happening?” Peter whispers into her hair, his arms wrapped around her under the covers - Michelle’s own arms wrapped around his torso as she whispers, “Yeah.”

Peter’s mind is racing, glad that his body went into autopilot after she’d told him the news - his suit still somewhere in the living room, his hair still wet from the shower he doesn’t remember taking as he brings her closer. 

Having kids was always something they talked about in the abstract, a someday daydream that they whispered to each other over coffee - side glances to cute babies on the subway when they went uptown. 

A baby in  _ reality  _ is something else entirely, something Peter’s sure he wants even if he’s completely incapable of figuring out  _ how _ . 

“So much for birth control being 99% effective,” Peter says, hearing her soft laugh before he glances down - Michelle leaning up to look at him as he continues, “Parker luck strikes again.”

“This isn’t the  _ worst _ timing if you think about it. Johnson has been an ass lately but he’s gonna retire in the next few months,” she says, Peter twirling a finger through one of her curls, “Ilha’s supposed to be his replacement and she’s a lot more… relaxed.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Peter’s quick to say, moving his hand so it’s out of her hair - thumb brushing up against her temple as he says, “I just want to be sure this is what you want.”

Michelle smiles, leaning forward to press her lips against his - pulling her even closer, feeling the smile on her lips. 

“I’m sure. It’s not exactly when we wanted but… when does  _ anything _ in our lives go according to plan? We had to cancel our wedding three times, Pete.”

Peter laughs, kissing her once more. “Yeah, I don’t know why we didn’t just have Pepper marry us in the first place. I think Tony’s still pissed we didn’t ask him to do it.”

“Tony wouldn’t have lasted five minutes before crying, you and I know that,” Michelle says, Peter smiling at the memory of both Tony and May trying - and failing - to hold back tears when he and Michelle finally exchanged their vows in the medbay, when Peter was still recovering from a fight with a man in a glorified rhino costume. 

“Yeah… not looking forward to the waterworks when we tell them this,” he says, Michelle’s face transforming into the worried look he had been trying to avoid when he first slipped in, the bruise on his leg now long forgotten. 

“Is this something  _ you _ want?” 

He can see the hesitation on her face just as clearly as he can hear it, Peter immediately wanting to crush any kind of doubt she may have. 

Michelle was right, this wasn’t what either of them had planned in the moment but it  _ is _ something that he wants - all of the immediate fears and self-doubt he felt being immediately shoved away in favor of assuring her of the truth. 

“Of course, MJ. We’re having a  _ baby _ . That’s…” Peter shakes his head, the sense of joy rivaling his sense of panic - trying to keep his features erring on the side of support as he says, “That’s amazing.”

Michelle squints at him like she doesn’t quite believe him, Peter leaning forward to kiss her again - hoping that if his words aren’t enough that he’ll be able to communicate how excited he is in a different way.

“Don’t think you can get out of talking about this more. I’m onto you, Parker,” she says as his mouth starts to move with more purpose, her hands dancing across his back. 

“Are you?” he teases, flipping them so he’s hovering over her - Michelle laughing as he says, “Looks like I’m the one onto  _ you _ .” 

She rolls her eyes, Peter gently rubbing his thumb against her temple once more as she says, “You’re ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m having a baby with you.”

Peter smiles, kissing her softly before whispering, “You’re gonna be a great mom.”

Michelle brings a hand to his face, pulling him closer to her. “ _ You’re _ gonna be a great dad.”

He knows there’s more they have a lot to talk about, a rush of anxiety and amazement in his chest at her words - still trying to wrap his head around the way his whole world had shifted in less than an hour. 

Peter pushes that away for now, refusing to dwell on the what-ifs or the how and instead focusing on Michelle - a smile on his face at the idea that in a few short months, she wouldn’t just be his wife, but the mother of his child.

* * *

The excitement that Peter feels - as with most things in his life - is short-lived, fingers tapping nervously against his lab desk the next morning.

From what Michelle could guess, she was only six or seven weeks along - telling him she would set an appointment with her obgyn sometime next week.

Peter’s leg bounces up and down, glad now that he hadn't asked Otto about the possibility for a promotion when he had planned to. The money from the Arthur grant is gone, Peter knows that - but he wonders if there isn’t still at least some kind of paternity leave they could work out, especially since all of his and Michelle’s previous conversations about having children assumed that Peter would be the one to stay more at home.

That thought stops him in his tracks, his leg pausing its up-and-down motion for a moment as he sucks in a breath.

_ There’s no way I can stay at home,  _ Peter thinks, his leg starting to bounce again.  _ We can barely afford rent as it is. _

The anxiety that he had successfully pushed away last night comes back in full force now, Peter bracing himself against the lab desk as he thinks.

If there was barely enough money for Otto to keep the lab running, there wasn’t enough for any kind of promotion or raise - and there certainly wouldn’t be enough for the kind of part-time work Peter would want to do once the baby came.

Otto was a great boss, if a little eccentric - always talking to Peter about his dreams for medical technology and the impossible things he wanted to develop. Otto needed all hands on deck for whatever came next - especially with the loss of funding - and while Peter got the sense that Otto liked him, Peter couldn’t say with any certainty that asking him about potentially cutting down his hours would actually work in Peter’s favor.

“How’s that coming along, Parker?” he hears Otto ask, throwing him out of his thoughts as he turns to see Otto’s kind smile.

Peter nods, forcing a smile on his face as he picks up the prototype - a bastardization of his web shooter designs that they hoped would work for insulin injections. The chances of Otto recognizing the mechanics of what Spider-Man used on a daily basis were slim - Peter banking on his boss’ obliviousness and a hope that his late night activities could save people in more ways than one.

“It’s  _ going _ , Dr. Octavius,” Peter begins, holding up the mechanism and finagling the lever - showing the injector as he continues, “Can’t quite get this one stopper to go through.”

Otto leans in, squinting through his glasses as Peter leans back - watching the man’s face as he takes it in. It should be a relatively simple fix, Peter wondering if the same problems that the injector is having was similar to the mechanical defect in his suit from last night - holding it up for Otto until the man says, “Have you considered changing the pressure flow? That should give the lever more leeway and prevent it from catching.”

Peter purses his lips, tilting his head as he glances at it - wincing when he sees how easy of a fix it actually is. “Yeah, I— thanks, Dr. Octavius. I don’t know how I missed that.”

Otto just smiles kindly again, putting a hand to Peter’s shoulder. “Happens to the best of us. And you,” he lifts his hand up, playfully pointing a finger towards Peter, “are the absolute best of us. Don’t know what we’d do here without you, Peter.”

Otto’s words are meant to be encouraging but all they do is further the sinking feeling in his stomach, Peter forcing a smile as he says, “Thanks, Dr. Octavius.”

The man smiles, nodding once before walking over to another lab desk and peering over the shoulder of another tech - Peter glancing around the room and taking in again just how few people Otto still kept around.

Any desire to ask about paternity leave or cutting his hours leaves just as quickly as it came, Peter forcing his eyes back on the prototype in his hands.

Peter loves this job, loves the work that he does, but the reality of Michelle’s announcement is starting to finally settle over him. They need money, more than what they had. He couldn’t afford to cut his hours just as much as he couldn’t afford to quit. 

Yet Peter is at a loss for what he  _ could _ do.

* * *

“Spidey, baby, we gotta stop meeting like this.”

Peter rolls his eyes under his mask, laughing as he swings through the air - Johnny flying around to his left side.

“You’re the one who called  _ me _ , _ ”  _ Peter says, swinging forward as the helicopter above them hovered, “there I was, minding my own business when suddenly I get a call about some ninja turtle you couldn’t handle tearing up Midtown.”

“I believe he likes to call himself ‘Mole Man’, have some respect,” Johnny quips. “Besides, doesn’t change the fact that you answered. Bored with saving cat number three? Face it, Spidey. Your life would be boring without me.” 

Johnny has the audacity to wink at Peter then, laughing as he does a barrel roll and shoots his hands forward - feeling the heat from them as Peter sends a web to the ninja turtle-looking mole guy they were going against, hearing his angry roar as Peter’s web hits its mark.

Whether or not Peter’s life would be  _ boring _ without Johnny is a stretch, but not something he feels inclined to argue about in the moment. 

Of all the people that Peter expected to still be in communication with from his college days, Johnny Storm would  _ not _ have been at the top of his list. The guy was cocky, borderline arrogant but always good for a laugh - Peter shaking his head as Johnny does another barrel roll for the mob of people that had gathered to watch the  _ Human Torch _ save the day. 

The fire from Johnny’s hands is hot enough that the mole guy brings his hands up to his face - Peter remembering from a previous encounter with him that he was sensitive to light, his webs pulling the villain’s hands together and binding them above his head.

“My life would be a lot less stupid without you, that’s for sure,” Peter finally retorts, seeing the mock hurt on Johnny’s face. 

“I resent that, web-head,” Johnny says, Peter rolling his eyes under the mask again at Johnny using his old college nickname as he sends another rope to the mole guy - forcing his legs together and bringing whatever fight he had planned to a complete stop.

“I’ll get you Spider-Man! This won’t be the last you’ll see of—“ Peter sends out one last web to cover his mouth, swinging up to one of the lamp posts nearby.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Curses on my children and their children, I know the drill,” Peter replies absentmindedly, freezing when he realizes what he’s said.

His heart starts racing, less because of the fight that lasted five minutes and more with the memory of what exactly Johnny had called him up from - having a sudden urge to see how Michelle was doing.

It’d been three weeks since Michelle had taken all those tests but today was when they’d both finally gone in for the first ultrasound - Peter’s hands involuntarily flexing at the memory of what their baby’s heartbeat had sounded like.

Peter had experienced a lot of things in his life but hearing his child’s little heartbeat - beating so fast that it reminded him of a hummingbird - is the greatest thing Peter thinks he’s ever gotten to witness.

Of course it would be ruined with a 911 call from Johnny, suiting up to save him from something that now that Peter thought about it - he could’ve handled himself.

It’s something Michelle always jokes about, Johnny’s constant back and forth with Peter - rolling her eyes anytime Peter would mention whatever shenanigans Johnny managed to loop him into. But it’s the exact kind of thing that Peter  _ can’t _ let himself get roped into now - feeling his chest tighten and his hands start to shake at the reality of what that little heartbeat meant. 

“This is just disrespectful,” Johnny says as he flies up beside Peter, gesturing in annoyance towards the captured villain, “ _ I’m  _ the one who led point on this. Mole man is  _ my  _ guy.”

“Yeah sure,” Peter says dismissively, fingers still twitching. “Lots of idiots to go around.” 

All Peter can focus on now is the sad excuse of a villain still wiggling on the floor - pure, unadulterated terror at the idea that any danger that Peter found himself in didn’t just put May or Michelle at risk.

That in the not so distant future, his  _ child  _ would be a target too.

“You good, man?” he hears Johnny ask, his voice getting growing distant the more Peter’s mind starts to race. 

For all of Peter’s panic and worry about figuring out the upcoming expenses, for all his excitement and total wonder at the baby that was the size of a raspberry if the app that Peter had downloaded was right - it hadn’t occurred to him until now that having a baby was doubly terrifying because of the line of work he was in. 

Michelle had been fine with him leaving, the appointment had already been over and she needed to head back to work anyway - but now all Peter’s mind could focus on is the reality that he had left her alone, the fear he had about her being in danger suddenly magnified.

_ What the hell am I thinking? I shouldn’t have left her. I should be there, making sure she got back to work safe,  _ Peter thinks - even if a part of him knows that Michelle would bristle at his overprotectiveness just as she had throughout their first few years of dating. 

Now here he was thinking about how they were going to pay for a baby when Peter hadn’t once considered the  _ dangers _ in having a baby - the all too terrifying possibility of what could happen for any new parent-to-be closing in around him but made a thousand times worse because of what that would mean for any child of  _ Peter’s _ . 

“Hello? Earth to Spidey.”

“Yeah, good. I’m fine. Fine. Perfect. Just great,” Peter rambles, trying and failing to bring himself back into the moment - seeing Johnny’s flames start to dim as he flies up beside him, head tilting in confusion. 

“You don’t  _ look _ so good,” Johnny says, motioning towards his face, “I mean I know you got the mask thing going on but I can tell. Something’s wrong. We’ve been friends for how long?”

“Too long,” Peter mutters, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but there as he glances around. 

“I resent that,” Johnny replies, Peter thinking of the quickest way he can get out of there and back to wherever Michelle is as Johnny continues, “but I’ll forgive you. Especially since moley over there just put a curse on your future children. You’re stuck with me for life now.” 

“Don’t talk about my future children,” Peter snaps, fingers twitching now as he looks back to mole guy - hearing the sirens in the distance, indicating that the cops were on their way. Peter isn’t needed anymore, Johnny would be able to handle the cops on his own. 

“Calm down, man. It’s not like you’re having kids anytime soon. Can you imagine?” Johnny laughs, rolling his eyes. “Total disaster.”

Peter just laughs nervously, nodding once before saying, “Yeah, disaster. I gotta go.”

“Wait, wait you gotta humor me now like,” Johnny puts a hand up, flying directly in front of Peter as he asks, “I mean, how does that even work? Like you and kids, you’re part spider so--”

“Johnny--”

“I mean would they have eight legs? Eight  _ eyes _ . What’s the limit here? Where does the spider end and where does the  _ man _ begin?” Johnny asks suggestively, Peter feeling antsier by the minute - wondering what the hell had ever possessed him to stay in contact with a guy whose memory would’ve been better served as a good, no-strings-attached time in college rather than the pain in the ass he’s being right now.

Peter knows he’s being unfair, genuinely  _ likes _ Johnny and wouldn’t have kept him around long after their non-relationship ended if that wasn’t the case. But he’s spiraling now, getting more anxious by the second. 

“Seriously, can we not--” Peter tries to say but Johnny’s on a roll, folding one arm across his chest as he puts the other to his chin.

“I mean, the suit leaves little to the imagination to begin with, so like, can you even  _ have _ kids? Or does the little spandex situation make everything a little--”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” Peter yells, frustrated and annoyed and panicked beyond any kind of comprehension. “I’ll let you know in nine months if my kid pops out with fucking antennae or whatever.”

Johnny blinks at him in shock - Peter instantly wishing he could take the words back when Johnny cries out, “Wait,  _ what _ ? Are you bullshitting me right now or did you just say--”

Whatever Johnny goes to say, neither he or Peter get to hear it - hearing the voice of someone on the ground loudly exclaim, “Spider-Man’s having a BABY?”

Peter and Johnny both glance down, Peter cringing when he sees the wide eyed expression of a teenager - phone pointed towards the both of them, their mouth open in shock.

Peter looks back up to Johnny dumbly, seeing a conflicting mix of emotions pass over his friend’s face until he finally winces. 

For once in Johnny Storm’s life, he doesn’t seem to have anything sarcastic to say - grimacing as he apologizes. “Sorry, man.”

Peter sighs, his shoulders sagging as he shakes his head.

_ Fuck.  _

* * *

Peter and Michelle are on the phone with Michelle’s parents and then again with May while his own phone keeps ringing, TONY STANK popping up on the screen over and over. The man leaves a series of voicemails-- sounding increasingly put out with each one, to Peter’s meager amusement.

_ “Hey Pete. Heard the good news. Never thought it’d be by way of the Bugle but, my life is nothing but full of surprises. Call me back.” _

Forty-one minutes later:  _ “C’mon, you can’t let slip that you’re gonna be a dad to the whole damn world and then just-- not answer. There’s only one person with the charm to pull that off and that’s  _ me.  _ You’re killing me, kid.” _

Twenty-two minutes after that:  _ “Peter, if you don’t call me in the next five minutes I swear I’m gonna fly over in the Iron Ma- … oh wait, Pep just nixed that. Well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I promise it’s going to be very embarrassing for both of us, but mostly you. Seriously kid. Call. Me.” _

Peter waits until after dinner - when he’s doing dishes and Michelle is taking a bath - before selecting Tony’s contact info and setting the cell to speaker.

Tony picks up on the first ring. “Hey there, Daddio. Took you long enough. I was about to rocket over, Pepper’s threats of divorce be damned.”

Peter rolls his eyes, practically scrubbing the glazed paint off a plate as he glances back down at the phone. “If you ever call me  _ Daddio  _ again, I’m telling Pepper who was really responsible for setting the lakehouse couch on fire and then she  _ will _ actually divorce you.”

“You would never. And anyway, just like I told you-- that was Morgan.”

“Morgan couldn’t even crawl yet.”

“What’s your point?”

Peter rolls his eyes again. “Look, I’m really sorry you had to find out like that, it wasn’t--”

“How long have you guys known?”

Peter sighs. “We just found out a few weeks ago. We were going to tell you and May but--”

“So May didn’t know yet either?”

“No! Of course not. We were gonna tell you together.”

Peter’s nose scrunches as he swipes over a particularly obstinate piece of lasagna gooeyness stuck to the inside of a bowl, trying not to let on how nervous he is as Tony’s silence continues.

“Look,” Peter says when the cheesy clinger finally gets deposited in the sink bottom, “we wanted it to be a big surprise, all pomp and circumstance and stupid shirts that said something corny like  _ Promoted to Grandpa  _ and  _ Best Grandma Ever  _ but then I went and opened my big mouth in front of everyone and--”

“Peter.  _ Peter.” _

Something in Tony’s voice stops his rambling, Peter pausing for a few seconds before asking, “Yeah?”

“Kid. Peter. You’re gonna be a dad.”

Peter turns off the faucet, eyebrows scrunching. 

“Yeah?” he asks again, even more confused.

“You’re gonna be a  _ dad.” _

Peter looks about his and Michelle’s tiny hovel of a kitchen, drying off his hands and huffing out a nervous laugh as Tony’s words sink in. “I guess I am. Who authorized that? Not you or Karen, that’s for sure. And now this poor kid is probably doomed to a lifetime of--”

“Nuh-uh, nope,  _ sta’ zitto _ . Don’t you even start with that down-on-yourself bullcrap you always love to spew,” Tony interrupts. “You’re going to be a great dad, Pete, just like Michelle is going to be a fantastic mom.”

“It’s not that-- or well, it’s not  _ just _ that,” Peter begins-- only to pause again, taking the phone off speaker. He glances down the hallway just to make sure the bathroom door is still closed before walking back into the kitchen and sitting down at the table with a sigh. “Even the things I do inevitably screw up at, MJ will be there to set me straight. It’s just…”

Peter lets his voice go softer, almost afraid to give voice to the fears he’s been harboring ever since MJ told him she was pregnant. “This wasn’t supposed to happen yet, y’know? We were going to wait, but now there’s a baby coming and well… there’s just so many other things to consider that we had hoped to have figured out first.”

“Things like what?”

Peter grimaces, tapping his fingers nervously on the table. 

“Things like-- like how we’re going to raise a kid in a cheap one-bedroom loft with neighbors that smoke in their bathroom and a heater that barely works,” he says, running a hand through his hair as his anxiety spikes. “Or how we’re going to afford infant daycare on a joint income that has us budgeting down to the last penny every month. Or--or how I’m still going to be able to go out every night, knowing I’m leaving MJ at home all evening to take care of our child by herself. I mean, what kind of father does that if they don’t have to?” 

“Well, I think it’s fair to say your situation is a bit unique, don’t you think?”

“But it’s not like I can just stop being Spider-Man either,” Peter rambles on, barely registering Tony’s words now as his mind starts to whirl at a million miles an hour. “God, even now, I could be out patrolling and something could happen with the baby or MJ and--”

“Let’s be real kid, that could happen no matter what you’re--”

“Or god, what if I get badly hurt? I don’t even have a will, Tony. What would happen if--”

“Whoa,” Tony interrupts more firmly, Peter’s jaw clamping shut. “Gonna stop you there, Pete. Just try to relax for a second, alright?”

Peter closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, his heart rate gradually slowing as he forces the mounting panic back down.

“You good?” Tony asks after a minute or two.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter says, nodding for emphasis even though Tony can’t see him. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Tony echoes. “So first off-- yes, you’ll probably need to adjust the hours of your favorite extracurricular. But I have no doubt you and Michelle will figure out a schedule that works for all of you, Spidey included.”

“Yeah,” Peter responds carefully, biting his lip. “I hope so.”

“Well, I know so,” Tony replies, voice resolute. “As for the rest-- you guys aren’t the first couple to accidentally get pregnant, and you’ll figure all that out just like every other parent of an oops-baby - or hell, any baby - before you did. Take it from me-- even the parents of planned children don’t know what they’re doing half the time.”

Peter sighs. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true.”

“Lastly,” Tony continues, “you and Michelle-- you’re not alone in this, alright? You have me and May and a whole host of other people ready to help out with anything you two need.”

Tony’s voice grows increasingly thready as he talks, Peter worrying the man has a cold coming on even as he replies, “Thanks, Tony. And I am really sorry you found out like that. We were going to tell you guys soon, I swear.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, Peter’s eyebrows furrowing when he hears what sounds like a croak on the other end of the line. “Tony? Everything okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine,” Tony says quickly, audibly sniffling. “And you know I don’t care about any of that, Pete. It was still one of the best moments of my life, finding out that you and Michelle are going to be parents. God, where did the time go? It feels like just yesterday you were fifteen, running around Queens collecting churros and stab wounds like other kids collected Pokemon and now… well, I-- I guess I’m still in shock, Pete. My kid’s going to be a  _ father.” _

There’s a small sob then, and Peter suddenly recognizes what he’d heard in Tony’s voice. Tony isn’t sick-- he’s  _ crying. _

Peter smiles to himself, remembering the conversation him and Michelle had had that first night-- joking about the waterworks the announcement was sure to cause. Peter had said he hadn't been looking forward to it, then. But hearing the awe in Tony’s voice now, he finds his own eyes welling up.

“Guess this means you can’t grumble when I call you  _ grandpa _ anymore, huh,” he says, Tony huffing out a wet laugh in response.

“I’m so proud of you, Peter,” Tony replies after a few moments, the words coming out shaky but the love laced within them shining through all the same. “You’re the best of us, kid-- and you’re going to be an amazing dad, too. Mark my words.”

Peter bites the inside of his cheek, pushing down all the doubt still clogging up his throat when he replies softly, “I’m gonna try my best, anyway.”

* * *

“You taking vitamins?” 

Peter’s head whips around, glad that the mask provides him some kind of cover to hide the incredulous expression on his face - the would-be mugger looking at him seriously from his webbed up position on the wall.

“Am I  _ what _ ?” Peter asks, seeing the mugger nod towards him - eyes dancing around his body in a way that makes Peter uncomfortable.

“Vitamins. You know. For the baby.”

Peter rolls his eyes. It’d been a few weeks since he’d accidentally shared with the world that he was going to be a father but somehow - in a way that was only fitting for Parker luck - the Bugle had somehow transformed the story into  _ Peter _ himself having a baby.

Morgan had been completely thrilled at the rumors, sending him increasingly ridiculous memes about his alleged pregnancy - Peter asking her to stop only for Tony to take over the mantle, sending him compilations of his favorites every night like clockwork. 

Considering his outburst had been because of his panic at putting Michelle in danger, Peter couldn’t be too upset at this development - especially since it kept the focus on  _ him _ and not on the baby that was now officially the size of a plum. 

Peter rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to the guy who was being robbed - helping him up as the mugger continues, “I mean I don’t know how spider-babies work but--”

“I think I’ll stick to medical advice from people who  _ don’t _ try to rob people in alleys, thanks,” Peter dryly says.

“He’s right,” the guy Peter’s helping up interjects, wiping his hands on his shirt as he says, “Prenatal vitamins are good for mom, good for baby.”

He stares at Peter up and down, tilting his head. “I mean, unless you got an egg sack situation going on.”

“How does that work anyway?” the mugger asks, Peter wondering when the hell this became his life as he continues, “You got a nest or something?”

“No I don’t have a-- why would you think I have a  _ nest _ ?” Peter asks, seeing the stifled shrug of the mugger. 

“You’re  _ Spider-Man _ .” 

Peter glances between the mugger and the person he’d ‘saved’, almost regretting his decision for how casual they were being as the mugger continues, “You probably shouldn’t be out here if you’re pregnant. When my girl was pregnant she was really--”

“I’m not-- I don’t have a  _ nest _ okay? Or eggs or anything like that.” Peter waves his hand around, inexplicably remembering when Ned had asked him the same thing back in high school. “What is with people thinking I lay  _ eggs _ ?”

“ _ Spider-Man _ ,” both of the men answer as though it’s obvious, turning to each other in surprise - Peter shaking his head. 

“No. No eggs. No egg sack. Just-- let’s stop talking about this.” 

“So you got a girl then? Surrogate? No judgement man, just curious,” the mugger asks, Peter’s patience wearing thin as he ignores the question, turning to the guy who almost got robbed.

“You good, dude?”

He nods. “You should look into Lamaze classes. Really helped me and my wife out.”

“Same here with my girl,” the mugger chimes in, “They got free classes at Mount Sinai if--”

“Okay I’m gonna go now,” Peter says tiredly, before pointing to the mugger. “Maybe rethink your life choices? I’d be more inclined to take birthing advice from someone who  _ wasn’t _ trying to steal a dude’s wallet.”

“You should look into a doula. My girl really liked hers. I could give you her number?” the mugger asks as if Peter hadn’t said anything at all, Peter shaking his head as he sends a web out and swings away - hoping someone hadn’t recorded _ this _ conversation too.

Then again, Peter thought, with his luck he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t see some bastardization of this exact exchange being sent to him at 2am by Tony - running commentary and string of incoherent emojis included. 

* * *

“Hey man, good to see you,” Harry greets, Peter sliding into the booth across from him with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” Peter apologizes, trying to fix his wind-swept hair as Harry laughs. 

“You’re good, Pete. Used to it by now,” he says goodnaturedly, Peter shaking his head as Harry waves a waitress over. 

“What’d you want to meet about?” Peter asks after they ordered their drinks, Harry turning his cup around in a little circle - a nervous tic that Peter recognizes immediately.

Just as Johnny Storm had been an unexpected friendship that he’d kept from college, so is Harry Osborn - someone he never would’ve expected to be friends with considering his father’s company was the reason Peter was perpetually late to everything in his life. 

Peter can smile at the memory now even if college had been rough in more ways than one, remembering all too well when he and Michelle had broken up after long-distance proved to be too hard - drowning his sorrows in bars a lot less upscale than the one they were in currently. It wasn’t a time he particularly missed - but Peter could be glad for three things that came out of it. 

The first is that now in retrospect, it gave him and Michelle much needed time away to grow - even if it had been painful at the time, their relationship feeling a lot healthier now than it had when they were in high school. 

The second and third were his friendships with Johnny and Harry - albeit in different ways. 

Whereas Johnny had been a fling that lingered - friends with benefits that sided firmly on the former when Michelle moved back into the city - Harry had been his roommate, the person he actually talked to about his breakup and about life, serving as the kind of friend Peter sorely needed since Ned - like Michelle - moved halfway across the country for college. 

He’d been wary of Harry those first few years, if only for his last name. But then he’d discovered that Harry had figured out Peter’s secret identity on his own and hadn’t told a soul, not even his father - something Peter didn’t understand at first yet now, with even more years of knowing Harry under his belt, did. 

Harry wasn’t anything like Norman. And even if the bite that changed Peter’s life had been under his father’s rule - Peter had a feeling that when Harry took over, Oscorp wouldn’t be dabbling in any kind of dubious experimentation. 

“I never got to tell you congrats about the baby,” Harry begins, twisting his glass around - Peter noticing the condensation gathering at the bottom as Harry says, “You guys are gonna be great parents.”

“Thanks man,” Peter replies, fingers tapping absentmindedly on the table. “Is that what you wanted to meet up about?”

Harry smiles. “Not quite but it’s… related.” He sighs, seemingly debating something within himself for a moment - just enough for Peter to wonder if something else is going on, even if his senses are quiet.

“I actually wanted to tell you something. Something that’s not… not public information yet,” Harry says, his voice going an octave lower.

“Whats up, man?” Peter asks, hoping he would finally get to return the favor for all the times Harry listened to him vent in college. 

“My dad’s retiring by the end of the year,” Harry whispers, glancing around the crowded bar as if he’s telling Peter state secrets - Peter remembering how controlling Norman Osborn was when he wanted to be. Harry continues, “And I’ve accepted the position as the next CEO.”

“That’s amazing, Har. Congrats. If I would’ve known, I would’ve bought you your drink,” Peter says encouragingly, before glancing around. “Though it probably would’ve been somewhere different.” 

Harry laughs. “That’s-- that’s not why I’m telling you, Pete. And exactly why I asked you to meet me here.”

Peter sits up, Harry twirling his glass around before he seems to find the courage he was looking for as he says, “I want you to come work for me.” 

Peter blanches. “You  _ what _ ?”

Harry shakes his head, scrunching his eyes closed as he says, “Not work  _ for _ me. More like work  _ with _ me. COO of Oscorp.” 

Harry takes a deep breath, opening his eyes as he continues, “My dad’s not… mentally well. We’re gonna get him the treatment he needs but,” Harry’s gaze shifts to the table, “I need people around me that I can trust. People I  _ know _ will get good work done and won’t try to take advantage of me during all of this.”

Harry’s eyes shift back up to Peter, Peter still trying to wrap his head around what Harry is asking of him as Harry says with genuine sincerity, “You’re one of the best guys I know, Pete. Hell, probably  _ the _ best guy I know.”

He smiles, leaning forward. “If there’s anyone in the world that I would trust to do a good job, it would be you.”

Peter blinks, absorbing Harry’s words as he presses forward. “You’d have your own office, your own lab. I’d be your boss only in name. I’d really defer you to run the whole science division cause let’s be honest,” Harry smirks, “I was never really cut out for all the research and development stuff.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Peter breathes out, completely at a loss at the bombshell that this revelation was. He’d heard the rumors of Norman Osborn’s seeming deterioration in the past few months, knew as much from Johnny’s incessant rambling and Tony’s gossip that something was happening with Oscorp. 

It seemed inevitabile for Harry to take over but for Harry to ask  _ Peter _ about joining him - that was something Peter could’ve never expected. 

“You don’t have to say anything yet,” Harry says encouragingly. “Shit man, I’d never ask you to make a decision  _ now _ . Especially not without talking to MJ.” Harry laughs. “God, I’m so glad you two got back together and you didn’t end up with Storm.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “We’re friends, Har. Always have been.” 

“Not from what I remember,” Harry grins mischievously, Peter shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s just something to think about. Oscorp’s got great benefits. Plenty of PTO, great insurance, the works. No pressure but,” Harry smiles more kindly, “I’m hoping it would help you just as much as you being there would help me.”

Peter smiles, fingers wrapping around his own glass as he replies, “I’ll have to think about it, man. It’s,” he lets out a small laugh, “it’s a hell of an offer.” 

“A good one, I hope,” Harry says nervously, Peter nodding his head.

“Yeah, yeah definitely. Just… a lot.”

Harry shrugs, bringing his glass up as he says, “Wouldn’t be an Osborn if I didn’t bring  _ some _ kind of dramatics to the table, huh?”

Peter smiles, raising his own - gently clinking them together. “You said it, not me.” 

* * *

  
“Did you know the baby is the size of a--”

“Peter, if you compare our unborn child to another type of fruit,” Michelle calls out, walking out from the bathroom for the third time in the past hour, “I’m gonna vomit.”

She pauses, Peter staring at her from the couch for a beat as she braces herself in the doorway.

“You mean that metaphorically or…?”

Michelle takes a deep breath, the moment passing as she shakes her head and walks over to where Peter is - Peter immediately moving from his relaxed position to make room for her as she sits down, swinging her legs over and propping her feet up in his lap.

Peter begins to massage them, Michelle immediately closing her eyes and settling in as she mumbles, “I thought morning sickness wasn’t supposed to last past the first trimester.” 

“Well the baby app you don’t want me to talk about says that it’s not uncommon for symptoms to extend into the second trimester.” Peter says, trying to keep his voice even and soothing even if there’s a slight undercurrent of panic in his chest. 

He’d checked the app - and the internet - incessantly for answers, wondering why Michelle was so absurdly uncomfortable with each passing day. Peter knew pregnancy wasn’t something as wonderful and as magical as the mommy bloggers he spent an embarrassing amount of time reading about described it to be but so far, Michelle’s pregnancy had been anything but easy.

She’d had awful morning sickness since the moment she’d first learned the news - something that still hadn’t tapered off, much to Peter’s concern. It didn’t help that Johnson, her asshole of a boss, seemed hell-bent on making everyone’s lives miserable in the last few months before he retired - Peter wishing she would quit even if he would never dare bring that up to her.

Michelle loved her job too much to do so and had spent too much effort making a name for herself, Peter knows - even if the idea of Michelle submitting herself to dealing with Johnson’s bullshit for the next few months was less than ideal. 

He rubs his thumb against the center of her foot, hearing Michelle’s sigh as she throws her head back on the pillow - eyes closing as she groans. 

“This sucks.”

“Sorry,” Peter says, seeing the slight smirk on her face - eyes still closed as she says, “You don’t have to keep apologizing for knocking me up, Pete.”

She opens her eyes, Peter seeing the wince in it from the relentless headaches she’s been experiencing - another thing that makes him anxious. 

“Kind of feels unfair though,” Peter says instead, working his thumb a little more as she sighs again. “I got to do the fun part and now you’re the one suffering for nine months.”

“It’s not all bad,” Michelle says, a soft smile on her face. “It’s kind of cool. I’m laying here and growing a foot right now. Just,” she motions towards the bump that seemed to grow every single day even if Peter knows the chances of him actually noticing it are impossible, “sitting here talking to you and right there, a foot is being made.” 

“Pretty sure there’s already feet,” Peter says with a playful grin, Michelle rolling her eyes in response.

“I forgot, you and that stupid app.” She purses her lips, tilting her head slightly before saying, “Go ahead and tell me.”

“What?” Peter asks innocently, kneading his thumb across the arch of her other foot as she makes a face.

“What fruit the baby is supposed to be now. I know you know. Go ahead and tell me.” 

Peter laughs. “It’s an avocado.” 

“ _ Thanks, _ ” Michelle says with a laugh, mirroring some stupid video they’d both laughed about in high school - a sharp pang in his chest at what their life had been like then and how it compared to now. 

There had been a time in Peter’s life when he would’ve thought this - rubbing Michelle’s feet in their tiny, cramped apartment, pregnant with their child and a wedding ring on his finger - would’ve been impossible. 

Their breakup shortly after she went to Stanford had been mutual but it didn’t make it any easier, still remembering their cautious promises to each other about staying friends - words that even then, Peter had gotten the sense they weren't actually going to keep.

It was a fluke in Peter’s mind that Michelle had even moved back to the city - a job offer with the  _ Times _ that he’d been insanely proud of her for, even if by then the most communication they had were random likes on each other’s social media. 

Michelle starts to breathe deep and steady then, Peter laughing to himself at how easily she fell asleep - glad in so many ways that even for as uncertain as their relationship had been then, it was rock solid now.

Harry’s offer comes to mind, Peter mulling it over as Michelle’s light snores fill the room. He was well-acquainted with the musings of billionaires by now, thinking of Tony’s latest 3am email with rankings of all the hospitals and their labor and delivery wards within a thirty-mile radius of their apartment. 

Harry had been sincere, Peter hearing the news about Norman just a few days later when it was announced all over the internet - Michelle giving him a sideways glance when he pretended not to have already known it was coming. 

Peter hadn’t told her about Harry’s offer yet and now, still massaging her feet gently, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to - debating within himself how much he actually wanted to sign up to work as a corporate shill, even with someone he counted as a friend. 

Tony had tried to gently and  _ not _ so gently harass him into a position at SI for years, something Peter had been adamant about not taking for a variety of reasons. 

Even though his internship at SI had been mostly for show, Peter used to daydream about working in his own lab - the freedom to do and explore whatever he wanted without any limits.

But the reality of what that would mean - what that  _ life  _ would entail - was antithetical to everything Peter stood for, a daydream that was always quickly chased away when Otto would run up to Peter, excitedly chattering about the newest development for their patent. 

Peter sighs, his fingers starting to slow the deeper Michelle’s breathing got - thinking he should clock in patrol time while Michelle rests, safe and sound in their apartment. He stands up as carefully as he can, moving her legs and propping her feet, grabbing the throw blanket that May had attempted to knit for them. 

It’s an awful mix of red and orange, haphazardly done but done with love - Peter smiling as he gently lays it over Michelle, watching as she settles farther into the couch. 

Peter brushes a curl out of her eyes, pressing a featherlight kiss to her temple before leaning back - successfully avoiding the coffee table as he went for his suit. 

Harry’s offer was beyond generous and would provide him the kind of stability that he desperately needs. But it still wasn’t what Peter wanted to do - knowing that if he did, he would’ve talked to Michelle the night he learned about it. 

The roll of anxiety in his stomach of what they were going to do to care for the little avocado sized baby comes bubbling up, Peter swallowing it away as much as he can as he walks into the bedroom - shoving his legs into his suit. 

He’d have to figure out what he was going to do sooner rather than later. But as with anything in his life that felt a little too much, Peter ignores it - pressing the spider-emblem on his chest before swinging out to face whatever the city had for him. 

* * *

“You could always come work with us.”

Peter sighs, dangling his feet over one of the skyscrapers - far enough now from any kind of wannabe YouTuber to catch their conversation. Johnny nudges him with his elbow, the playful smirk on his face underlined with the concern in his eyes - Peter knowing Johnny well enough to recognize that he’s being serious.

Peter shakes his head as he says, “I could, but I’m about 87% sure that Tony would actually murder me if I seriously considered that.” 

Johnny laughs, loud and without abandon - a symbol of how he approached life, Peter thinks - as he grins. “Did you hit your head recently? More than usual? Pretty sure that man would break the law of physics for you if you’d let him.”

“You completely underestimate how much he despises you,” Peter deadpans, Johnny winking before rolling his eyes, the two of them settling into a comfortable silence as they stare out into the city.

Peter’s reminded of all the times they used to do this when they were back in college - right about the same time that Peter had inadvertently outed his identity to him when he limped to class hours after Spider-Man had taken a hit on the same leg, Johnny being a lot smarter than the world gave him credit for when he put two and two together 

The kinship that came from being “young attractive superheroes” - Johnny’s words, not his - was one that Peter had been appreciative of, Johnny understanding their weird double life in a way that no one else really did.

It was inevitable, Peter thinks, that they ended up having some fun together - dating being something Peter didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to do in college. 

Despite what Harry seemed to think, Peter knew they were friends now just as they had been then - Johnny respecting Peter’s wishes the moment the ‘benefits’ part of their relationship ended.

If anything, Peter thinks Johnny still gave more than he got - listening to Peter whine and complain about his life, things he could tell any number of people but told Johnny for the express purpose that he knew Johnny would be content to listen. 

Peter told him about Harry’s offer and the criminals, his concerns about Michelle’s pregnancy and her safety - Johnny taking it all in without so much as a pun. 

For all his supposed flaws and stupid as shit public persona, Johnny Storm was a damn good listener - one that Peter had never been more thankful for than in this moment.

“I’m serious, Pete,” Johnny says, bringing Peter out of his thoughts - Peter turning to face him. “You know Reed would be ecstatic to have you in his lab.”

Peter smiles, nudging Johnny with his arm. “Why, when he has you?”

Johnny rolls his eyes. “Please. My own sister would sell me to a two-bit Russian hacker if it meant you’d become a permanent part of the team.”

“No she wouldn’t,” Peter argues, Johnny smiling as he repeats, “She  _ wouldn’t.” _

Johnny goes to stand, helping Peter up - knowing he needs to head home sooner rather than later, debating whether he should bring home Thai or Chinese for dinner as Johnny says, “But I mean it man. You’d be a kickass part of the team.”

“Thanks but I’m good, J. That’s not why I told you,” Peter says, his smile starting to fall when he sees the mischievous glint in Johnny’s eye.

“No, I know. But Pete, could you imagine? You and Reed being the dynamic duo? Or even better,  _ fantastic  _ fans of Johnny Storm?

Peter makes a face, Johnny smiling like an idiot. “You get it? Cause we’re—“

“I get it, Johnny,” Peter says, regretting his decision to bear  _ all _ his feelings in that moment, “But I’m gonna go with no.”

“Your words are saying no but your whole aura,” Johnny gestures vaguely towards Peter’s body, “says  _ yes, _ so we’ll just put a pin in it.”

“Take the pin out. No pin. Explosion set off, boom, we’re done.” 

Johnny just grins, pantomiming a bomb going off.

“Just you wait, Pete. I’ll convince you. Gonna blow your mind.”

Peter rolls his eyes.

“Of course you are.”

* * *

Peter’s home alone on a Saturday morning, Michelle having finally given in to her mom’s constant pleas over the last few months for the two of them to go window-shopping for things for the baby. He’s still dozing in bed when there’s an insistent knock on the front door.

Half asleep, he’s barely cracked the door open when Tony barrels in, dressed in an immaculate suit and wearing a look of determined glee that Peter has long learned to be cautiously wary of.

“Tony? What are you doing here?”

“I come bearing good news!” the man says by way of greeting. “I’ve been mulling it over for a while, and I’m happy to say I have just the solution to your problem.” 

Peter smooths a hand over his unruly bedhead, then across his face-- wiping at the crust in his eye creases. “Uh, which problem now?”

“All of them,” Tony replies, waving a hand in the air. “Or well, most of them anyway. You and Michelle will still have to handle the Spidey scheduling, although I’m certainly not opposed to babysitting if she ever needs a break. Hell, let’s just make it every other Friday night. Sort of like a custody arrangement, but minus any childhood trauma.”

Peter yawns. “Still not sure I’m following.”

Tony rolls his eyes in mild irritation, only to pull out his phone and press some buttons. Immediately a holograph of a webpage fills the air between them.

“Level III Biochemist, Research and Development Department, Stark Industries,” Peter reads aloud, skimming over the rest of the page before he looks at Tony. “Is this-- is this a job listing?”

“It is,” Tony says with relish. “And look at the salary.”

Peter’s eyes widen when he sees the number. “Tony, that’s-- that’s gotta be twice as much as the going rate for a chemist in the city!”

“It is,” Tony says again, still grinning. “Which is why I added the superfluous ‘Level III,’ but I digress. The title doesn’t matter-- it’s your new job, kid.”

“It’s my-- what?”

“Your new job,” Tony repeats flippantly, before dropping the phone back into his pocket, the holograph disappearing with it. “I didn’t even want to put it online but HR got after me about so-called ‘ethical guidelines’, so here we are. In any case for paperwork purposes you unfortunately  _ do _ need to apply at that link, but the interview is already scheduled for Wednesday.”

Peter’s jaw drops. “Tony, I can’t-- I can’t go to an interview on Wednesday! Dr. Octavius and I have trials all this coming week.”

“So next Monday then,” Tony says with another dismissive wave, only to frown when Peter continues to stare at him dumbly. “What? I thought you’d be happy! This is just what you needed, right? A better salary, more standard hours-- not to mention we offer a  _ fantastic _ paternity leave package, if I do say so myself.”

Peter groans, ignoring the urge to go back to his bedroom and hide under the covers until Tony gives up and leaves. “Look, if I wanted a job at SI I’d ask, okay? But as it is, Otto needs me in the lab right now, and if that wasn’t enough Harry’s been nudging me to come to Oscorp, not to mention Johnny doing way more than nudge to get me to--”

“Johnny Storm?” Tony says with a frown. “Oh hell no. Over my dead body are you going to work with that minxy meathead at the Baxter Building.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “He’s not that bad. And in case you hadn’t noticed, we never  _ actually _ dated.”

“The little shit’s still the reason you nearly lost your last chance with Michelle.”

“What? That’s not-- that isn’t even  _ close _ to what happened. God, you have no idea what you’re talking about, that’s-- look,” Peter says, pinching the bridge of this nose in frustration. “Can we please stop talking about my past love life? Johnny might be a little over-the-top sometimes but he’s a good friend, and it’s very kind of him -  _ and _ Harry,  _ and _ you - to offer me these positions. But there’s way more for me and Michelle to consider than just salary and benefits.”

“Pete, I neither know nor care what Osborn or Storm are attempting to dazzle you with, but I have no shred of a doubt it’s inferior to my proposal,” Tony says, pursing his lips and raising an eyebrow. “The SI gig is literally tailor-made for you. I wrote the thing myself!”

“And I appreciate it, I promise,” Peter replies wearily. “But I’m not going to just take an offer from  _ anyone _ that intentionally overlooks what could be better candidates. I need time to consider all my options first, once I figure out what all my options even  _ are. _ I’m not-- I don’t want to be a charity case.”

At the phrase ‘charity case’ Tony gives a dramatic roll of his eyes, drawing it out so long that Peter has time to roll his own twice as he waits for the man to finish his theatrics. The two have a stare-off that lasts for a good half-minute before Tony breaks first, looking around the tiny apartment before bringing his eyes back to Peter.

“Y’know kid, when I said you were the best of us, I meant it,” Tony finally says, pulling a pair of sunglasses from his front jacket pocket and sliding them on. “But I think I forgot to add that there are distinct downsides to that status-- the primary one being that sometimes you’re way too damn good for your  _ own _ good.”

Peter smiles for the first time in their conversation-- recognizing that for now at least, Tony’s backing down. “I’m pretty sure you’ve said that about four dozen times since we met, though usually it’s when I’m off my rocker on drugs and laid up in the medbay.”

Tony huffs out a laugh, heading over to the door. “Yeah well, someone has to be around to remind you what a dumbass you can be. If it’s not Michelle or May, then I guess it has to be me. And right now, kid, let me tell you-- you’re being a complete dumbass.”

“At least I’m consistently on brand,” Peter replies with a smirk, Tony guffawing and shaking his head with a bemused expression before disappearing back out the door with a wave.

* * *

“Hey Har, you doing okay?”

“Yeah, you know how it is,” he hears Harry say through the line, holding back a laugh as he swings through the city. 

“You know, I  _ don’t _ but I’m always glad to hear that you think the life of an heir to a billionaire dollar fortune is relatable. You’re a man of the people, Har.”

“Ha ha,” Harry says sarcastically, Peter grinning under the mask as he makes his way to Michelle’s next doctor’s appointment, backpack slung over one of his arms - feeling less like he’s pushing thirty and more like the fourteen year-old kid he had been when he first started. 

Michelle was officially twenty weeks as of yesterday, halfway through her pregnancy and Baby P - as Tony called their unborn child - was already on the move.

It was a memory that made him laugh, Michelle’s eyes bugging out and her frantic yelling out to Peter before he left that morning - bringing his hand to her stomach as their baby, now the size of a sweet potato, kicked up a storm. 

He swings a little faster, getting more and more enamored with the idea that their baby was actually becoming a  _ person  _ \- vibrating with nervous excitement and anticipation at the chance of finding out their sweet potato’s gender.

It didn’t really matter, neither he nor Michelle had a preference but it was exciting nonetheless - just another reminder that sooner rather than later, they were going to have a live, human baby living and screaming in their apartment.

That thought sends a jolt through Peter’s system, barely tossing out another web in time as Harry’s voice chimes in through the call in his mask. 

“Anyway, I just called to see if you had given any more thought to my offer.” 

“I uh, hadn’t man. I mean, I haven’t talked to MJ yet--”

“I get it, I know it’s a really big decision,” Harry says just as the hospital that Michelle’s at comes into view, “It’s just the board are being real assholes about everything and I just want to show them that I  _ have _ actually given some thought to what’s gonna happen with the company. Due diligence and all that.”

“Yeah, yeah, for sure man,” Peter replies absently, swinging till he’s at a building that he knows has roof access - glad that he has this part of the city more or less memorized as he lands. “I’m sorry, I know this is a big deal--”

“Don’t worry about it, Pete. Honest,” Harry says, Peter hearing the ever-present sincerity in his voice once more. “I know you got a lot on your plate. Have you guys found out what you’re having?”

“A baby,” Peter deadpans. “MJ still has high hopes for a velociraptor but who knows.”

Harry laughs before saying, “Fine, fine, keep it a mystery. You know I’m just playing with you.”

“I do,” Peter says good-naturedly, walking over to a part of the roof that was covered - slinging his backpack over his arm and setting it down. “And I’m actually heading to the gender reveal appointment now.”

“That’s awesome, man. Really, this is wild. I can’t believe the guy I used to watch eat dry-ramen straight out of the package is actually gonna be a dad.”

Peter grins, shaking his head. “Trust me, Har. There’s no one more surprised than me.” 

* * *

“I love the people of New York.”

Michelle laughs before pressing her lips firmly together, eyeing Peter as he climbs in from the window - tripping over one of the many balloon strings he’d tied around his leg and falling flat on his face. 

“Your words say one thing but your tone says something completely different,” Michelle quips from the couch, Peter grinning up at her only to realize that she can’t see it - scrambling to stand up and disentangle himself from the balloons tethered to him. 

He rips off the mask, Michelle smirking at him as she tries to sit up - Peter immediately throwing a hand up. “Wait, don’t get up. I got it.”

“You sure?” she asks but her smirk turns into a grimace, Peter nodding as he easily snaps the errant strings - all six balloons floating way up to the ceiling of the apartment. 

“See? Easily fixed,” he says as he stands, making his way over to her. 

Peter kisses her, cupping her head in his hands - feeling the wrinkle of her nose as she says, “You smell.”

“Nice to see you too,” Peter says, kissing her once more before hitting the spider-emblem on his chest - the suit finally cooperating with him again as she laughs. 

“Where the hell did you get the balloons anyway?” Michelle asks, Peter stripping out of the suit before popping his head back into the living room. “Don’t you have some kind of Peter tingle or something to stop people from surprising you?” 

“If you’re trying to seduce me, calling it a ‘Peter tingle’ is  _ not _ the way to do it, MJ,” Peter says with a frown, Michelle snorting as he continues, “and besides, it only works on  _ threats _ .”

Peter rolls his eyes, only to glance up at the mass of balloons wistfully. “Speaking of, nice Dominican grandmas should definitely be classified as a threat.” 

“You mean to tell me a pack of grandmas got the jump on you?” A beat. “Again?”

Peter laughs, folding his arms as he leans against the door pane. 

Michelle was right to be amused, Peter seeing the smirk on her face as he shakes his head. This wasn’t the first time that people in the city had taken to bombarding him with a random assortment of baby-related paraphernalia. 

Months after Peter’s initial fuck up in announcing his impending fatherhood to the world and the city had rightfully -  _ finally  _ \- concluded that Peter himself isn’t pregnant. But rather than lightening up on the advice, it was as if everyone and their mother  _ and  _ grandmother had concluded that Peter was clearly in need of all the help he could get - calling for Spider-Man’s help only to force upon him an assortment of diapers, toys, and - tonight, at least - congratulations balloons.

It was a good thing, Peter knew - a perk of being Spider-Man that he tended to forget more often than not. 

People loved Spider-Man. And even if no one knew who Spider-Man actually was, the whole city seemed inordinately obsessed with making sure Spider-Man’s baby was okay. 

_ So am I _ , Peter thought, watching as Michelle attempted to adjust herself on the couch - looking miserable even if she tried to hide it. 

For as vaguely annoying as all the gifts people gave him were, it at least made Michelle laugh - an ache in his chest at how visibly uncomfortable she constantly was. 

It was just another reminder to Peter how woefully unprepared he was for this, the incessant advice he got from well-meaning New Yorkers on the street combined with the continued nagging from Harry, Johnny and Tony in what felt like an endless loop being too much for him sometimes - his own creeping anxiety of what it would mean to actually take care of a child threatening to overwhelm him anytime he thought about it for too long.

Michelle seems to sense that he’s staring at her, bringing her attention back to him in the door frame as she nods towards the bathroom. There’s a look on her face that Peter immediately recognizes, as if she could sense his inner turmoil even if he hadn’t said a word - something that Peter hates himself for, not wanting to place another burden on her shoulders when she’s already in so much physical discomfort. 

Michelle looks as if she’s going to call him out on it only to wince again, Peter moving to rush towards her only for Michelle to shake her head as she says, “Go shower. I can smell you from over here. So can she,” Michelle pats her abdomen, putting on a tired smile, “and neither of us want to smell like the city all night.”

Peter laughs, putting his hands up and turning towards the bathroom as he replies, “Yes ma’am.”

“Once you’re clean, then you can tell me more about the Dominican grandmas who attacked you,” Michelle says with a smile. “I can’t wait to tell Tony about this.”

“Do  _ not _ even think about it,” Peter calls out as he turns the water on, hearing Michelle’s laugh over the sound of the pipes churning - hoping that by the time he’s clean and ready to sit by her that any conversation that she wanted to have would be put off for another night. 

* * *

As with anything in his life, Peter should’ve guessed that it would all go to shit sooner rather than later. 

He’s at work, tinkering with another mechanism when his phone starts to buzz - only getting the notifications because Otto comes up behind him, fingers gently tapping against his shoulder.

Peter takes off his specially made soundproof headphones, glancing up at Otto with a smile. “Hey, Dr. Octavius. You need something?”

The man smiles, shaking his head before pointing to his phone - Peter seeing now the flash of notifications.

“Your phone’s been going off for the past twenty minutes. Didn’t want you to miss something important.”

Peter smiles, thankful he had an understanding boss only for his stomach to drop when he sees who the messages are from - twenty missed calls from Michelle, five from May and three voicemails. 

Peter immediately stands, Otto looking back at him curiously as Peter presses play on the first voicemail - his heart starting to race as Michelle’s voice plays through the other line.

_ “Hey Pete, I’m… I’m thinking I’m gonna head home. Johnson’s bullshit is too much for me today and my back has been killing me. I know the doctor said the Braxton-Hicks were gonna be a bitch and a half but I’m just-- ugh, I can’t do it today. I think I’m gonna pick up some dim sum on the way. Let me know if you want any okay? Love you.” _

Peter quickly moves to the next message, Otto asking him, “Is everything alright?”

Peter doesn’t answer, hearing Michelle’s pained breathing on the other end. 

_ “Peter, don’t panic. I’m-- I’m gonna go to the hospital. Something’s… something’s wrong. I went to the bathroom before I left and - ah fuck, that hurts - I’m bleeding and I don’t think that’s normal. Yeah Lily, I’m okay. I’m-- Pete, now would be a great time for you to actually answer the phone. I’m fine. Everything’s okay just--- call me. Love you.” _

Otto’s still talking but Peter feels as if the world around him is slowing down - hands shaking as he presses play on the next voicemail, hearing May’s voice on the other line. 

_ “Peter? It’s May. I’m here at the hospital with MJ. Call me.”  _

“Dr. Octavius, I need to go,” Peter squeaks out, grabbing his jacket and leaving before Otto even gets the chance to say anything - feeling as if he didn’t run out of there as quickly as he could that his heart was going to burst out of his chest. 

Their baby girl was the size of a grapefruit, only twenty three weeks - Peter’s mind running through all the information the stupid app that had become his lifeline had told him about her development. 

Twenty-three weeks was early - way,  _ way _ too early - his whole body seizing at the idea that Michelle wasn’t just in pain but bleeding. That bleeding at twenty-three weeks was a  _ terrible _ sign. 

That the chances of their baby surviving right now - even without the curse of Parker luck - were slim. 

His heart leaps up into his throat, Peter haphazardly putting his jacket on as he calls May -- needing to know exactly what hospital they were at before he runs up to the rooftop and swings into the unknown. 

It takes all his focus to do so, waiting the agonizing few minutes as his mind continues to race - running a loop in his mind. 

_ Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay. _

* * *

“So she’s-- everything is--”

“Everything’s fine,” May whispers, Peter’s arm wrapped around her in a relieved hug as they sit in the waiting room - still feeling the residual panic deep in his chest as May continues.

“The doctor will let us know when we can come in. They were able to stop the bleeding and they’ve checked everything already.” May lets herself out of their embrace, taking his head into her hands as she says, “Both MJ and the baby are just fine.”

Peter shudders, eyes closed as he leans into May’s palm. “God, I thought-- I heard her voicemails and--”

“I know, sweetheart. But it’s okay,” May assures him, Peter opening his eyes - vision blurry as she says again, “They’re going to be just fine.” 

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment - still trying to wrap around what exactly had happened. A nurse had greeted him as soon as he’d arrived, throwing around words about Michelle’s placenta and a possible Cesarean. Peter’s heart feeling like it had leapt up to his throat as he listened, his mind going back to their grapefruit-sized baby and the statistical improbability of her surviving if she was born so early. 

He’d thought of Michelle and how her pregnancy had been a struggle - a sinking feeling in his gut that this was some kind of omen, some truth out there in the universe that Peter had yet come to grips with. That it didn’t matter what he did or how hard he worked, that there were some things that would never happen for him.

He’s only brought out of his thought spiral by May’s gentle touch.

“Pete? You still with me?” she asks, Peter hearing the concern in her voice as he quickly nods, trying to swallow down the panic in his throat as he says, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

There must be something about his tone or in his eyes, May’s expression shifting into something a little more firm as she says, “No, what’s going on in there?”

Peter lets out a sharp laugh, sounding just as delirious as he feels as he says, “What’s-- May, I…” 

Peter trails off, his vision getting blurrier the more he blinks, “I don’t-- I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

May looks confused for a moment, brushing his hair out his face as she says, “Pete, there’s nothing you  _ can _ do. The doctors will be back out any minute to let you go see her but this,” she she shakes her head, “this wasn’t anything you would’ve been able to prevent.”

May takes his hand into hers, squeezing his fingers gently. “You can’t stop everything, Pete.” 

“That’s just it, May,” Peter says, feeling his chest tighten. “I can’t stop it.”

“What?” she asks, her voice low as everything that Peter had been holding tightly within himself comes bursting out of him.

“Everything.  _ Anything _ . God, this isn’t-- none of this was supposed to happen. Not now, not for a long time. MJ’s been sick for months, our neighbor’s shitty music has been playing non-stop for the past two weeks and…” 

He shakes his head. “This just wasn’t how I thought having our first kid was gonna be.” 

May smiles, brushing his hair out of his face once more before saying, “Peter, I love you. You know this. And I know today was scary but,” she laughs, “you have  _ got _ to pull yourself together.”

“What?” Peter asks incredulously, blinking back at May in complete surprise. 

May had been a rock in his life for as long as he could remember - long before he’d ever moved in with her and Ben. Some of his earliest memories revolved around her laughter as she tried, and failed, to bake cookies with him in their kitchen. 

May had been there for all of his ups and downs, had held him when it hurt and had celebrated every major milestone in his life with the kind of exasperated relief that he’d come to expect and adore from her. 

But this threw him off balance. 

“May, I don’t--”

“Peter, let me ask you something,” she interjects, her voice low and her gaze steadily on him. “Did you know Ben and I never planned on having kids?” 

Peter blinks, shaking his head slightly. “I mean, I never really thought about it.”

“As you shouldn’t,” May says with a smile, her eyes taking on a faraway expression. “Kids shouldn’t have to think about adults and their plans. But it’s true, neither of us planned on having kids and for the longest time, we were perfectly okay with that.”

Peter can sense exactly where the conversation is going but waits, letting May say her piece. “When you moved in with us, do you think Ben or I had any idea what we were doing? That there was any possible way that we were prepared to take care of a five year-old all on our own?”

Peter’s shoulders sag as he shakes his head, “May…”

May’s grip in his hand tightens, squeezing once more as she forces him to look at her. “I don’t regret one minute of it, Peter. Not  _ one _ . You are the greatest thing I’ve ever had in my life,” she smiles, the loss of Ben settling in the silence between them until she breaks it.”But you weren’t planned. Not by a long shot.”

Peter takes May’s words in, chewing the inside of his cheek as she presses forward. “Just because you and MJ didn’t have all of this planned - just because it hasn’t gone according to how you thought it would be - doesn’t mean that you won’t make it work, and work well. Ben and I did it, I know you and MJ can too.”

May brings a hand up to his face, running her thumb across his cheek as she says, “It doesn’t matter if this baby was planned, you and MJ are going to love the  _ shit _ out of her.” 

Peter laughs, a watery sound as May smiles. “And you’re not alone, kiddo. You have so,  _ so _ many people around you that are cheering the two of you on. A little  _ too _ much sometimes - we’ve got to get a handle on Tony’s late night emails.”

“He  _ emails _ you?” Peter asks. “I knew he called and texted, but…”

May rolls her eyes fondly, smiling.“Pete, we’ve had a back and forth chain since you were fifteen years old. I don’t think the heat death of the universe would stop that man from trying to rope me into his latest hare-brained idea where you’re concerned.”

Peter laughs again, the anxiety in his chest that felt like a vise grip around his heart loosening a bit as he takes a deep breath, though the exhale is still a little too shaky to be considered even.

But it’s enough for May, squeezing his hand once more - going to say something only to be interrupted by the arrival of Michelle’s doctor, both of them turning to face her.

“Mr. Parker?” she asks. “You can come with me.”

Peter immediately goes to stand - May standing with him, her continued grip on his hand giving him strength as he swallows and asks, “Is she… is everything okay?”

The doctor smiles warmly, nodding once. “Michelle and baby are both doing great. She’s in recovery now. We’d like to keep her overnight for observation, just to be safe. But,” she pauses, her grin broadening, “she’s been asking for you.”

Peter nods once, turning to May for encouragement who just smiles back at him. 

“I’ll be here for you, Pete.”

_ You always have been _ , Peter thinks - giving her a half-smile as he lets go of May's hand, turning back to the doctor and following her to Michelle’s room. 

* * *

Peter’s late night activities had landed him in some kind of medical room for nearly half his life. Yet walking into Michelle’s quiet recovery room, hearing the heart rate monitor, seeing her lay there - suddenly causes a wave of empathy to wash over Peter for every person in his life who has been forced to do the very thing he’s doing right now. Peter swallows down his fear as he goes to sit by Michelle’s bedside.

Her eyes open still clearly groggy from whatever medication they’d given her - Peter thinking that later he’d have to ask more questions about what procedure they’d done and what exactly had happened.

All Peter could care about in the moment is Michelle, slipping his hand into hers as her eyes flutter, lazily blinking back up at him. 

“Pete?” 

“It’s me, I’m here,” Peter says, his voice barely above a whisper as he leans closer - pressing his lips to her hand before gently squeezing it, seeing the corner of Michelle’s lips raise slightly.

“Took you long enough.” she says, Peter laughing as a tear falls down his face.

He’s sniffling as he replies, “You wouldn’t believe the traffic. Worst city in the world.”

“The worst,” Michelle tiredly agrees, smiling before it shifts into a frown when she sees the tears falling down on his face. 

"Pete--"

"I'm so sorry, MJ. I'm sorry I wasn't there," Peter whispers, brushing his lips against her knuckles once more - May's words still ringing in his ears.

Rationally, he knew this wasn't his fault. But there was still a sense of creeping guilt inching its way down his spine and rolling around in his gut, the memory of those panicked minutes when he didn't know if Michelle and their baby were going to be okay still running over and over in a loop behind his eyes.

Michelle shakes her head gently, Peter seeing the exasperation in her face as she says, "Pete, this wasn't your fault. My body just hates making a baby apparently."

"That's not funny, MJ,” he says solemnly, Michelle tightening her grip.

"If we can't laugh about it--"

"Not yet," Peter says more affirmatively, something in his expression that Michelle accepts immediately - running her thumb across his hand as she softly replies, "Okay." 

It's silent between them for a moment, Peter content to just hold her hand and to listen to the steady beating of her heart - his super hearing picking up the rapid-fire beating of their little grapefruit - until she speaks up again. 

"And here I thought I was gonna have some good news for you when I got home."

"Hmm?" Peter asks, Michelle sighing as she closes her eyes. 

“Ilha's quitting. Got an offer with the Bugle if you can believe it." 

Peter frowns, waiting for Michelle to continue as she opens her eyes again, looking at him meaningfully. 

"She was supposed to be Johnson's replacement,” she says slowly, as if waiting for him to connect the dots.

Peter blinks a few times - his mind working a little slower than normal as he finally replies, "I don't understand. If Ilha was supposed to take over his job but she's leaving then who’s replacing him?”

There’s silence for a few beats, Michelle finally smirking as Peter’s eyes widen-- the pieces falling into place. Exhaustion is still written all over her face but the spark in her eyes that Peter had fallen in love with years ago couldn’t be more present as she grins and says, "You're looking at her.”

Peter lets out a huff, shaking his head in disbelief. "MJ that's-- that's  _ amazing. _ I'm so proud of you, of course, that’s-- you're gonna be a kickass local team lead. Wow.”

"I know," Michelle says, something shifting in her expression. "Just like I  _ also _ know that you've been worried about money."

Peter goes to deny it only for Michelle to shake her head once more. "I'm a journalist, Pete. It's literally my job to figure out when someone's bullshitting me."

She smirks, Peter seeing the way her eyes start to droop. 

"If you think for one second that I didn't know something was up,” Michelle says, lifting one eyebrow playfully, “then you married the wrong woman, Parker."

Peter grins, leaning forward to kiss her once on the lips then again on her forehead, bringing his free hand to cradle her face. 

He suddenly has so much he wants to tell her right then - about what he'd talked about with May, to be honest for once about all his anxiety and fears, to celebrate with her the incredible promotion that she so richly deserved.

But Peter can tell that whatever drugs Michelle's been given are starting to take effect, lulling her to a sleep that he knows her body desperately needs. 

So Peter shelves all that for now, though only for the moment - knowing that it was unfair of him to continue to shoulder this burden alone when Michelle isn't just his wife but his best friend. But all the same, this conversation should wait to happen when both of them were in a better position to talk. 

Instead Peter just smiles, filled with an overwhelming sense of love for the woman in front of him as he whispers right before she drifts off, "Nah, I married the right one." 

* * *

An evening a few weeks later finds Peter meticulously repairing one of his web-shooters in the SI tower Avengers lab when Tony strolls in, wearing yet another suit - a frankly odd wardrobe choice for him these days - and smirking as he pulls off his sunglasses.

“Hey kid. FRIDAY told me you were down here.”

“Hey Tony,” Peter says, surprised to see the man. “What are you doing at HQ? I seem to recall Pepper banning you from the premises almost as soon as your retirement party ended last year.”

Tony scoffs. “I’m Tony Stark, Pete-- breaking rules is what I do for fun.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Not when Pepper sets them.”

Tony sighs. “Fine, fine. Annual budget projections board meeting. Can’t exactly be missed when you own the company. The better question is-- what happened to your web-shooter?”

Peter grimaces. “Teenagers playing a softball pick-up game in the middle of the road over in Bushwick. Swung around a corner and nearly took a fastball right to the nose. Just managed to deflect but it cracked the shooter all the same.”

To his credit Tony aims for sympathetic-- only for Peter to glare at him when his mouth quirks, a snicker escaping.

“What?” Tony asks, unashamed. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Yeah, yeah. The kids thought so too. I even told them to knock it off before they broke a window but my shooter kept spurting out puny half-foot strings of webbing and any hope of wielding authority was pretty much lost after that,” Peter replies, staring forlornly back down at his broken tech. 

He shakes his head, looking back up at Tony. “Remind me again why anyone trusts me to raise a child who isn’t just a little hellion.”

“Easy. You’re raising it with Michelle,” Tony says, Peter chuckling as he softly nods.

“Y’know, I should probably be offended by that but you’re absolutely right.”

“Of course I am,” Tony quips, coming over and leaning against the lab bench nearest where Peter’s working. “Speaking of your lovely wife, how’s she doing?”

“Good-- well, besides already feeling done with being pregnant,” Peter says with a smile, the weeks since their scare doing nothing to lessen the sheer relief he still feels that everything turned out okay. “She had her final follow-up appointment at the hospital yesterday. The doctor said both her and the baby are completely healthy.”

“Thank god,” Tony says sincerely. “That’s great news, Pete. And speaking of other great news, I took the time today to pick out the perfect spot for your office when you--”

“About that,” Peter interrupts, setting down his web-shooter and turning to face Tony, face carefully blank-- unsure how Tony will take what he has to say next. “I’ve actually come to a decision. Well, the both of us did.”

“Oh?” Tony asks, perking up as he rubs his hands together. “Excellent! We can get the paperwork going as soon as--”

“I’m not coming to work for SI, Tony,” Peter says resolutely, shaking his head for emphasis when Tony opens his mouth to protest. “And before your disappointment turns snarky, I’m not going to work for Oscorp or the Future Foundation either.”

Tony cocks his head, eyebrows furrowing. “So, you’re just going to stick with Octavius? Did the next wave of grant funding finally go through? You said there wasn’t promotion potential until--”

Peter smirks. “Well, there is a promotion, but it’s not mine. Michelle’s replacing her boss at the end of the month as the section editor for regional news.”

“What? That’s great!” Tony responds, looking genuinely delighted before his expression morphs back to confused. “So…”

“So, we talked about it and with her new salary,” - Peter pauses long enough to take a deep, steadying breath before barreling on - “we’ve decided we can afford for me to stay at home full-time.”

The surprise on Tony’s face couldn’t be more comical, but Peter’s nerves keep him from chuckling at the sight.

“And this-- this is what you want?” Tony asks disbelievingly. “You’re sure?”

“I am,” Peter says, nodding. “It’s actually... it’s kinda how I always envisioned things being when I thought about what us being parents would look like someday-- even before we found out we were having a baby. We decided together last week and I have yet to regret it, so-- yeah. I’m sure.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, Peter fumbling for what else to say to persuade Tony it’s the right move when Tony claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Pete,” Tony says with a giant, pleased grin. “That’s-- that sounds  _ perfect, _ kid.”

“You really think so?” Peter asks, hardly daring to hope. “Honestly, I was kinda worried about telling you. You’ve given me so many  _ you’re the future  _ talks over the years, I guess I thought you might--”

“Peter, if it’s right for you and Michelle, then it’s right, period. You’re my kid-- I just want you to be happy. All three of you,” Tony says, squeezing Peter’s shoulder for emphasis. “Besides, who says a stay-at-home father who moonlights as a vigilante can’t still be the future? Even knee-deep in poopy diapers and dirty burp cloths, you’re still going to be the best of us.”

Peter makes a face. “It doesn’t sound nearly as enticing when you put it like that.”

Tony laughs, pulling Peter in for a hug which he falls into readily, wrapping his arms around Tony’s back-- relieved that for once, things seemed to be turning out better than he could have hoped. 

Or they were, until--

“And here Pepper was just  _ barely _ managing to keep me and May reined in on our surprise baby shower plans,” Tony exclaims into Peter’s ear, clapping him on the back twice when Peter chokes on a sudden gulp of air. As soon as Peter can breathe properly again Tony pulls away, eyes alight with mischief as he takes in the utter dread on Peter’s face. 

“Oh no, no no no. You two are  _ not  _ conspiring on a party, I won’t let--”

“Oh come on, Pete, it’ll be fun! Between the baby, Michelle’s promotion and now you starting Spidey’s Daddy Daycare--”

“Please don’t ever let MJ hear you call it that.”

“--it’s going to be the shindig of the  _ century.” _

Peter groans, closing his eyes.

“I take it back. I regret everything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! Come hang out with us on tumblr: [blondsak](https://blondsak.tumblr.com) and [seekrest](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


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